


Bellamy's rules

by That_Ginger_004



Series: Bellarke One-Shots [5]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Also you too Bellamy, And Miller, Angst, Bellamy's rules, Clarke I'm so sorry baby, F/M, I'm so sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-28
Updated: 2014-11-28
Packaged: 2018-02-27 07:32:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2684519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/That_Ginger_004/pseuds/That_Ginger_004
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellamy had only two rules in his life. He lived by those rules, stuck to them without fail. Number one was to call Octavia once a week, if not more. If he didn’t, then he knew she’d drive out to visit him with her family in tow, and that’s something that he could definitely do without. And number two was to never fall in love - something that was easier said than done, but he tried his hardest and had so far avoided breaking said rule.</p><p>Sequel to I Knew You Were Trouble, but can be read alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bellamy's rules

**Author's Note:**

> So someone commented on my I Knew You Were Trouble story asking if I could write one in Bellamy's point of view. And how could I resist! I might write another one about when Clarke gives birth, but I'm unsure as to if I will or not. Anyway, thanks to Wastenot07 for the fabulous idea, and I hope you enjoy it!!

 

Bellamy had only two rules in his life. He lived by those rules, stuck to them without fail. Number one was to call Octavia once a week, if not more. If he didn’t, then he knew she’d drive out to visit him with her family in tow, and that’s something that he could definitely do without. And number two was to never fall in love - something that was easier said than done, but he tried his hardest and had so far avoided breaking said rule.

 

And then along came Clarke Griffin. She intrigued him, with her blonde hair and blue eyes and stick-to-the-rules-or-else nature. Her every move was purposeful, and he had learned that whilst she portrayed the image of the perfect girl, she desired nothing more than to lose that stereotype and make a new one. He wanted to learn what made her tick, and what better way to do that than by asking her out? (Which was, in itself, just short of a miracle, because he was Bellamy Blake, and he did not do relationships)

 

Needless to say, he found himself quite shocked when he came to the realization that her feelings for him were not, in fact, unrequited. He had shut himself up for a week, almost forgetting about his first rule, which would not have ended well. Octavia had teased him about it on the phone, and he almost regretted calling her when she had given a rare word of advice.

 

“Don’t be an idiot, Bell,” she’d started (he’d rolled his eyes - wasn’t she supposed to be comforting him?) “This girl, she must be special. Don’t screw this up, okay? If she really is as amazing as you say, then maybe this was meant to be. Just… forget about your stupid rule for a while, alright?” 

 

It was times like that when he really appreciated how smart his little sister was. He came out of his self-imposed banishment, and had apologized profusely to Clarke who had been almost beside herself with worry. When he had returned to his flat, she’d actually punched him in the face - which, when he had looked back on it, had been sorta hot. 

 

But the fact remained - he had feelings for her, and every day that passed he broke his rule more and more. He didn’t regret it at all, because she was  Clarke , and she’d never do anything to intentionally hurt him (except for when she’d punched him, because that had actually really hurt). 

 

She’d said it first - whispered that she loved him just before they went to bed. He hadn’t known how to react at first, so he had smiled and kissed her in just the way he knew made her forget what she was thinking - and then, when he had her melting in his arms, he whispered it back in her ear. 

 

Really, he should have known that something would happen. His life just didn’t  do nice and calm and simple. There had to be a catch, something that would change everything. He just didn’t expect it to be  this,  of all things. It would punish Clarke as much as him - if not more, which he found extremely unfair. He remembers the look on her face when she told him - nervous and hesitant with just a touch of… was that fear? But then she had spoken, and his entire mind had gone blank. He wasn’t even aware that he had left until he was on his motorbike and driving away from their flat. 

 

He headed to the closest pub, ignoring the guilty feeling pooling in his stomach. He’s aware of the fact that he’s doing probably the least helpful thing to Clarke, but he can’t take this, he can’t be a father. Because that was what Clarke had said, she had told him that she was pregnant, and that meant that she was going to be a mother, and he was sure that she’d be perfect at it but he’d be the father and  he didn’t know how to do that. 

 

His own father had left his mother just after she had gotten pregnant with Octavia, and as far as Bellamy knew he didn’t even know that Octavia existed. Hell, his father could be dead and he wouldn’t even know. But, you know, at least he’d inherited something from his father, he thinks bitterly as he knocks back another shot. From what little he can remember, his father spent most of his time drunk off his ass, and it seemed like Bellamy was heading the same way - or at least for tonight, that is. 

 

The rest of the night is in flashes. He drinks shot after shot after shot, and it feels like the blood in his veins is drowning in alcohol. He thinks the bartender is trying to talk to him, so he glares at the man until he gives up. He stays until his brain is fuzzy and his thoughts are all a tangled web of emotion, which is probably far longer than he should. 

 

He leaves the pub and stumbles out into the street, his feet moving faster than his brain, which probably is the reason why he trips in the middle of it.    
  


 

“Oops,” he mutters, patting the ground distractedly, “Clarke Clarke Clarke Clarke Clarke Clarke... ” 

 

Even in his brain addled state, she is the first thing on his mind. He continues his mantra of her name as he drags himself to his feet and starts to walk again. He stops again, and then grins.

 

“I’m gonna be a daddy… Daddy Bellamy...” he says.

 

He took another step, then suddenly there was the screeching of tires, and the flashing of lights and everything was loud and it hurt and he just wanted Clarke, in that moment more than ever. Then it was over, except it wasn’t over, because everything was hurting and he just wanted it to stop. Please, God, let it stop. There was black seeping into the edges of his vision. He was dimly aware of the sound of a door slamming and footsteps heading towards him. He hears a voice talking to him, asking him something… 

 

“Clarke…” he groans. 

 

 

The darkness was almost overwhelming, and the pain was threatening to swallow him whole. He feels a hand reach into his jacket, and drawing out what he thinks is his phone, then more words are being spoken, and he almost can’t breathe from the pain in his chest. He lies there until he hears sirens, and then there are more voices talking to him, and asking him questions, and he just wants them to stop, and leave him alone. 

 

“Clarke,” he mutters again, because he can’t say anything else. 

 

The voices are getting quieter, and the darkness is getting more intense, and he knows that he must be going delirious because he thinks he can see Clarke hovering above him, and she looks more beautiful than she ever has before, although that could be the pain talking. 

 

“Bellamy,” she says, and her voice could put an angels to shame, “Stay with me, please,” 

 

Her voice sounds pleading and her face is pinched with worry. He wants to reach up and smooth the creases away, but he can’t find the strength. 

 

“God, Bell, please. I need you,” she’s pleading with him, and he thinks she’s holding his hand. “I love you,” 

 

“Clarke,” his voice is so faint he can barely hear it, which scares him, but also gives him the courage to summon the last of his strength and move his hand to touch her still-flat stomach. 

 

She looks at him, and he’s startled to see tears on her face. He wants to speak, to tell her all the things that she’ll now never hear, but he can’t bring himself to do it, so he settles for smiling at her instead. She’s speaking again, but he can’t hear it, and it feels like he’s drifting away; like he’s leaving this world forever, and he thinks that this isn’t an entirely bad way to go. And then the darkness consumes him, and he knows no more.

 

****

 

“Bellamy! Bellamy, no! Bell, wake up! Please, Bellamy!” the woman sitting next to the man is crying, sobbing the man’s name. 

 

Miller knows that he should say something, but he can’t bring himself to speak. He’s seen scene’s like this plenty of times before - it’s part of the job description of being a cop - but that doesn’t make it any easier to watch. The woman, he thinks that her name is Clarke, has just lost something terrible, but if she’s lucky it’ll only be temporary. He thinks of the way the man - Bellamy - had only been able to speak her name, and he thinks wistfully of a time when he loved someone that much. 

 

The woman is nearly in hysterics at this point, and he knows that when the paramedics arrive they’ll sedate her. She’ll wake up the next morning in a hospital bed, and await the news of what happened to her - husband? There’s no ring on her finger, so it’s likely not that. Her boyfriend then, because they look nothing alike so they can’t be related. Yes, he thinks, if she’s extremely lucky, then he’ll still be alive and she can still have her happy ending. But it’s far more likely that he won’t have survived the hit, and that she’ll have to organize his funeral. Miller feels sorry for her - he knows from experience that it’s not a pleasant thing to do. 

  
But that’s her problem, not his, so he goes to his colleague, and they swap notes about the situation. And as he goes through the motions, he tries, as always, to ignore the gaping hole in his chest, and the pang of sorrow he feels for the woman, because he knows that her life will never be the same again. 


End file.
